


Someone To Save Us

by elusetta



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Femslash, Fluff and Angst, Holding Hands, Implied/Referenced Torture, Light Angst, Pre-Femslash, Two Shot, hudson is 32 because apparently this is the hill i'll die on, just 2 gals being pals, you could interpret this platonically if you squint reeeeeally hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 09:13:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17097773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elusetta/pseuds/elusetta
Summary: Companion piece/prequel to Waiting For Catastrophes. Hudson finds an unexpected confidant and lets some of the weight off of her chest.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a quick thing but instead I spent two full days on it. What happened?

After being in the bunker, where nothing moved except to hurt her, and the ceiling was as dark and heavy as the acts that John committed under it, Hudson had to actively get used to the countryside. Paradoxically, she felt more trapped here than she had in the prison. Not because she knew she couldn’t leave, but because she knew she wouldn’t.

The sky was too big. The landscape was too open. So Hudson cowered away from the freedom she had once prized under the eave of the Spread Eagle, her shotgun always either at the ready or within reach.

She’d only been in that place for, what, a month? Not long. Not long enough to justify the awful, crushing pain that still curled in her chest when she thought of  _ him.  _ John Seed and his fucking eyes, watching and watching and never intervening no matter how much she screamed and begged for mercy. 

The sky expanded above her again, and Hudson pushed the thought from her mind. Rook had been wary to leave her alone again, even as much as she’d insisted she’d be fine, and Hudson was beginning to regret letting them go.

A mirror of the world she had known before. The time in the bunker had twisted her into an echo of what she had been. The responsible, logical, firm Hudson was all but gone. Rook thought she was back to normal- but then again, they would. They’d barely been affected by all this.

Or maybe she was thinking the same about them that they were about her. Maybe they were just as fucked as she was, and she couldn’t even see it.

She made a mental note to ask them about it when they came back from wherever the hell they’d gone off to save, and slowly, feeling her mind edge closer and closer to the agonizing thought of John, she drew her conscious back to the present. To the warm summer air, the cloudless blue sky, the sunlit wood of the buildings in Fall’s End. 

Hudson leaned heavily against the wall of the bar, closing her eyes. “Fuck…”

That might have been the first coherent word she’d said all day, and honestly, it fit her mental state perfectly.

Coming up on her left was a presence not threatening enough to worry her. “You okay?”

Hudson reluctantly opened her eyes, turning her head to the side to see a tall woman with a sniper rifle nearly as large as she was strapped to her back. Then, she recognized her, and she practically flew off of the wall. “Grace Armstrong?”   


Grace smiled. “Joey Hudson. Nice to see you out of that bunker.”

“It’s… good to be out,” Hudson stuttered, trying alternately to take in all of Grace’s appearance and not to make eye contact. Hell, was this really still going to be a problem?

Grace was a local celebrity; everyone knew her, everyone loved her. But for Hudson, that wasn’t the issue. She’d be fine if…

Jesus Christ… it was hard to admit it, even to herself, even when she knew it was true. They had gone to high school together, for Hudson’s freshman year and Grace’s senior, and, well, Hudson being deeply in the closet at the time, and Grace being the beautiful, smart, athletic idol of the school… 

Things happened.  _ Feelings  _ happened.

Feelings that, apparently, at the age of 32, Hudson still wasn’t over.

Grace didn’t seem to notice the state of awkward, schoolgirl shock that had taken over Hudson’s face, because she only tilted her head slightly, looking concerned. “You don’t look great, Hudson.”

Hudson sighed, the exhaustion of her new everyday trials temporarily overwhelming the flicker of reignited feelings. “Yeah. Being tortured in a bunker by John fucking Seed will do that to you.” 

She regretted the bitterness of the words the moment that they were out of her mouth, but Grace’s expression only darkened with what looked like a mixture of anger and empathy. “If Rook hadn’t already dealt with him…”

Hudson laughed dryly. “Yeah.”

They fell into a dark, contemplative pause that wasn’t exactly characteristic of the average high school reunion. If the news Hudson had heard was true, then Grace had a lot to be pissed off at John about. But in that silence, full of anger and hard memories, there came a sort of mutual understanding. Or one must have come, because when Grace picked the conversation back up, it wasn’t about John Seed. No, she knew. Both of them knew that they didn’t want to discuss it. “You want to go for a walk?”   


Hudson looked up at the awful wideness of the sky, at the neverending, terrifying fields of grass that lay just outside of the town. Then she looked back at Grace.

_ This one’s for you, freshman Hudson. _

“Sure,” she replied, not letting her voice reveal the fact that she would rather spend another night in John’s bunker than leave the safety of the bar. But something about Grace’s presence reassured her, and when she crossed the boundary of the eave, she was only shaking a little. 

She took a few steps before Grace noticed. “Hudson? Is everything-”

“I’m  _ fine, _ ” Hudson bit out. “Just… I’m just…” The sky was bearing down on her again, and Hudson’s shoulders braced themselves as though it would crash into her at any moment. “Fuck,” she whispered.

Grace’s hand fell on her shoulder, and some of the tension in her body disappeared to be replaced with surprise. “John did this to you, didn’t he?” Grace said softly.

Hudson sighed. “I don’t get it. I want to do something, I can’t  _ stand  _ not doing anything, but I can’t even walk outside without feeling like…” She shook her head uselessly, reaching up to finger her braid. “I don’t know. I walk outside, and I feel like I’m going to die just from how  _ big  _ it is.”   


Grace reflected on it for a moment. “I felt the same way coming back from Afghanistan. Maybe it wasn’t exactly the same experience, but you being in that bunker- you were fighting a war of your own every day.” She squeezed Hudson’s shoulder, and Hudson felt some part of her soul leave her body. “I promise it gets easier.”

The soft weight of Grace’s hand anchored her to the ground, and as they walked, Hudson let out a laugh halfway between bitter and amused. “I have to say, this isn’t how I thought I’d be reunited with my childhood crush.”

Grace stopped. “You had a crush on me?”   


“Uh…” Hudson turned slightly red, and for a moment everything but the blunder she’d just made disappeared. Grace’s hand dropped away from her shoulder. Just how big of a mistake had admitting that been? Hope County wasn’t exactly progressive, and she knew Grace was devout. 

She should have just kept her fucking mouth shut. “Sorry. I, uh, didn’t mean to spring that on you.”

Grace smiled. “Don’t be. It was a long time ago.”

They resumed walking, at least a few minutes passing before Grace cleared her throat. “I know it’s been a long time, Hudson, but I have to say, I worry about you. I know what John’s capable of. You and him, alone in that bunker for that long, it’s-”

“I’m okay,” Hudson insisted, in a softer tone this time. “Or I will be.”

Grace’s hand brushed hers, and it didn’t seem entirely unintentional. Or maybe that was just Hudson’s mind playing tricks on her. “You’re being strong. I get that. I do it too.”She turned warm, knowing eyes on to Hudson, understanding but somehow painfully piercing at the same time. “We all have to be human sometimes, Joey. And if you ever need to be human, I’m here.”

The shaking, inside and out, of her body stilled. Hudson smiled at the woman.

“Thanks, Grace.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hudson takes up Grace's offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me and setting scenes at dawn... I swear. Anyway here's Wonderwall

Hudson found herself knocking at Grace’s door the next day, the dark circles under her eyes as heavy as every thought she carried, trying to ignore the sky that was just as terrifying as she’d left it. With most people, she would be worried about imposing, or that their invitation hadn’t been entirely heartfelt. But Grace… Grace knew. Grace understood. And frankly, she was the only person Hudson felt comfortable enough around to talk about this stuff.

But it was early. Incredibly early. Hudson wasn’t sure exactly what time it was- that was an ability she’d lost thanks to her bunker time with John- but given that the sun hadn’t even risen yet, she had to wonder if she was making another mistake.

The door opened, and Grace looked exhausted, but still, she blinked herself awake upon seeing it was Hudson.

“Morning,” Hudson said awkwardly, stuffing her hands in her pockets.

“Barely,” Grace replied. She rubbed her eyes, but didn’t make any other movements, which was _most likely_ just being exhausted but just in case, just in case she was irritated by Hudson’s impromptu appearance-

“I’m sorry, I’ll go,” Hudson blurted out. “I didn’t mean to intrude, I just-”

That startled Grace into reaching forward and grasping Hudson’s hand. “No. It’s okay, come inside.” She smiled briefly. “Don’t want you in this cold.”

“Th-thanks,” Hudson said, letting Grace guide her into the house. It was hardly the sort of place you’d expect to have survived in the present conditions of Fall’s End; nice hardwood floors, not scarred up with blood and bullets, furniture that looked comfortable. It might have been Grace’s dad’s, before he’d passed. A hint of guilt tinged Hudson’s chest. What business did she have, expecting Grace to listen? Grace had her own traumas to deal with.

She shouldn’t be stuck dealing with Hudson’s.

Grace gestured vaguely to the dining room table. “Sit.”

She didn’t turn on the lights. In a way, Hudson appreciated that. It wasn’t exactly dark; instead, it was the insubstantial gray of mornings before the sun had really broken through the cover of mist and clouds, and the ghost of last night continued to throw a soft quiet over any scene it touched. It felt more manageable than full sunlight would have been.

Hudson sat down at the table as Grace boiled water, making no comment but a smile as the smell of coffee- good coffee, the type no one seemed to have in this God-forsaken county- filled the room.

Grace set down a mug of the stuff in front of Hudson, then settled down across from her with her own. “Don’t tell Mary May,” she said, only half-joking. “She’d kill for some of this, but I keep it for emergencies.”

Hudson curled her fingers around the mug gratefully. The heat was a welcome respite from the surprisingly cold morning. “Thanks.” She smiled thinly, examining the wood of the table with a gaze too intent, not really knowing what she’d do if she met Grace’s eyes. “For everything. I’m sorry to bother you this early, I… I didn’t know where else to go.”

“I know the feeling,” Grace replied. The care in her voice pierced Hudson’s lungs. “Nightmares?”

Hudson turned the mug in her hands. “Yeah.”

Grace remained silent, waiting for her to go on, so reluctantly, Hudson did. “That Rook had never come to rescue me. That I was… down in that bunker, John with his fucking tattoo gun putting the names of everyone I’ve ever failed into my skin.” She breathed out shakily. “I saw my old partner die again and again. Over and over. And I couldn’t do anything to stop it.”

Grace’s face darkened. “I know you feel like you’ve failed them,” she said. “I’ve failed people too. But nothing’s ever really just one person’s fault.”

Hudson laughed timidly, gaze darting up almost enough to meet Grace’s before falling back to the table. “Really? Grace Armstrong, the hero of Hope County, failing someone?”

Grace smiled, looking down. “You’d be surprised.” 

This time, Hudson was the one who waited. And Grace, just as Hudson had, eventually continued. “People put me on some kind of pedestal. See me as a hero just ‘cause of my medals. No one seems to think I can do any wrong. But, you know, people ignoring my mistakes, acting like they didn’t happen, that just makes me feel worse about it all.” She sighed, a heavy, melancholic sound that Hudson could feel echoed in herself. “When my dad and I got into that crash, he was dead on impact, but I always thought… always _felt_ like there was something I could’ve done.”

A sickening pit formed in Hudson’s stomach. “Crash?” she asked softly. She had known that Grace’s father had died, but not like that. That made it so much more real. So much more violent.

Grace nodded and touched her right cheek, tracing a light scar. “It damn near killed me, too. Cult thought I was dead right up until me and Rook took down all those Peggies at the Lamb of God.”

Barely thinking about what she was doing, Hudson finally let her eyes meet Grace’s as she leaned across the table and touched the scar herself. “Thank God they were wrong.”

How had someone she hadn’t seen in such a long time come so strongly, with so little hesitation, back into her life? More importantly, how had she let this happen- how had she suddenly, somehow, at the most inopportune time, rekindled feelings that were supposed to be long gone?

Hudson realized her action, and pulled back abruptly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

Grace laughed. This time, it washed some of the recollection out of her eyes, and some of the clouds off of her expression. “You really gotta stop apologizing.” Tentatively- Hudson hadn’t even known that Grace Armstrong _did_ tentative- Grace took her hand, letting their intertwined fingers rest on the table. “I’m glad that you’re here. And that you’re okay.”

Hudson exhaled, feeling her face heat up. More importantly, though, her prevailing sensation was a warmth settled gently in her core, spreading rays of gentle promises all through her body. “I’m glad you’re okay too,” she said in a voice that would hardly go above a whisper.

Grace gave her a half-smile that Hudson returned.

The gray of the morning grew lighter, but the sun still hadn’t made its way onto the scene.

Looking down at her hand, Hudson’s smile grew softer.

She could wait for the morning. All the light she needed was right here.


End file.
